


On a Lucky Eve

by Espisayer



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, Humor, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 16:04:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17165015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Espisayer/pseuds/Espisayer
Summary: Prussia and Russia are both left on their own for Christmas while their families and friends all seem to be spending the holidays with a significant other. There's no better time to break out the alcohol! Alternate human name for Russia is used. Strong language.





	On a Lucky Eve

**Author's Note:**

> I tend to write Russia and Prussia differently than you typically see in the fandom. If you want more information, I made a detailed post about it on tumblr here: https://espisayer-hetalia.tumblr.com/post/181402345153/my-characterizations-russia-prussia

Christmas was a holiday that meant a lot of different things for a lot of different people.

For Gilbert, sometimes it meant spending time and getting drunk with his sister, Krimhilde, and their friends. And they had a lot of damn friends―and their friends always seemed to bring friends of friends, and Christmas time would be chaos. It was great.

And then, lately, there were years like this where, all of the sudden, after hundreds and hundreds of years,  _now_ everyone had a significant other who they wanted to spend the holidays with. It wasn't like Gilbert minded all that much, really, but he almost couldn't comprehend how everyone decided to get their shit together at the  _same damn time._

And Christ, why was it so fucking cold out? Even for December?

“You’re not going to spend all night by yourself getting drunk, are you?”

On the phone with his sister, Gilbert watched his breath crystallizing in the air instead of rolling his eyes into the back of his head. “No, mother,” he droned, on his way to the liquor store, “but, Christine’s gonna throw a  _massive_  party, and, I don’t know, somebody might bring booze. And there’ll be boys there.”

Krimhilde groaned, “Gilbert, please.”

“Hey, I mean, if you’re over in Italy getting laid, I might as well―”

“ _Gilbert!_ ”

He  flinched away from the phone (as did a few passerby on the sidewalk), and now might have been deaf in one ear, but he didn't regret it. If he got to keep one pastime this year, it was embarrassing his sister. “What? Don’t tell me you haven’t done anything yet.”

“I swear to―I’m hanging up. Don’t wreck the house while I’m gone.”

Gilbert clicked his tongue at the dial tone. No chance in calling her back, either. 

Well, what now? It was tempting to call and annoy some of his friends just for kicks... But he was slowly losing the motivation to do anything but lay on the couch and watch crappy movies. With that distraction gone, the air felt chillier, and he hunched in on himself and went to shove his phone back in his coat pocket.

Or, he was going to. One thing he didn't keep organized was his phone, and so it wasn’t unusual for him to find unread straggler messages. Though, it wasn't usual to get a text from Russia―Aleksandr.

They were friends, though their relationship was a bit weird. It felt like they’d known each other forever and should’ve been closer. But Aleksandr was shy as hell and rarely texted or called anyone, so Gilbert was usually the one reaching out to him―and he usually preferred to call.

The text he got wasn't anything especially noteworthy, a generic “How are things”… but Gilbert nearly dropped his phone when he realized the text was two days old. (Or maybe that was because he stopped suddenly and someone bumped into him.)

“Scheiße. Fuck me.” No follow-up? After two days? Hopefully he wasn't upset about it. What time was it in Russia right now? What  _time zone_  was he in? Wasn't he spending time with his sisters? Were they even doing anything for Christmas?

Fuck it. It was only 3:00 in Germany, he was just going to call him.

Waiting, he paced restlessly in a small 1-meter section of the sidewalk, getting (and ignoring) more than a few questioning looks from other people walking by. As it kept ringing and ringing, he mindlessly started grinding his teeth together and wondered if it was physically possible to kick yourself in the ass.

“H-Hal―er, priv―I mean, h-hello?”

Relieved he picked up (that would've been his luck), Gilbert sighed and was able to laugh a bit. “Hey, Aleksandr… did you just go through three language changes?”

“Uhm… Yeah, I―I’m sorry, I dropped my phone. D-Did you need something?”

“No, I just noticed your text,” Gilbert said. “You know I’m really bad about that. Why didn’t you call?”

Aleksandr’s voice hesitated, “I… ah… I-I didn’t want to bother you this time of year…”

Gilbert shook his head at him, “You’re not bothering me.” Then he took a pause. “Why do you sound so damn nervous?”

“Wh―I-I’m not. I was just… uh… startled…”

He was easily flustered, anyway, behind the face he put up for people he wasn't close to, but something sounded off. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Whatever Aleksandr’s response was, Gilbert was distracted by the sudden shouting of a belligerent woman. Though… he was a little confused about where it came from. He could swear he heard it blast his own ears before he heard it down the street. He must've been hearing things.

No, wait, he wasn't. He heard it again―the woman kept screaming, in clear German, in his ear at the same time he heard it in his own vicinity. He wasn't going crazy, right?

After a pause, Gilbert asked, “So, where are you right now? With your sisters?”

Again, the hesitation. “Well… N-No. They’re on their own this year, until New Year’s. Er, boyfriends.”

“Uh-huh.” Gilbert started pushing through people to follow the sound of the woman ranting, though what he could hear through the phone was getting more distant.

Ah-hah. His eyesight wasn't the best, but Aleksandr was about 200 cm tall and he could pick him out of the crowd all the way across the street. Gilbert smirked to himself, but had to stop from giving him shit right then. “What are your plans, then?”

“Oh… I don’t ever have plans,” Aleksandr said with a breath of a nervous laugh. “But… I don’t mind the quiet while they’re gone.”

“Oh, yeah? Didn't I heard a woman screaming about something a second ago? What was that about?”

“U-Uh… well… I’m… not sure what that was…”

He made sure not to make much of a commotion while he waded through the clusters of people, keeping Aleksandr occupied on the phone all the while he made his way toward the other end of the street. As if the coincidence couldn't be any more unbelievable, it happened to be extremely close to the liquor store he’d been on his way to

After creeping up behind him, Gilbert clapped his hands on Aleksandr’s shoulders and shouting, “*Lügner!”

That was a mistake.

Immediately upon contact, Russia dropped everything he was holding and swung around on a dime, twisting Gilbert’s arm behind his back and nearly throwing him face-first into the ground―but he stopped abruptly.

“Urk―Gilbert―?! You―!”

Both wincing in pain and laughing, Gilbert couldn't come up with a response before Aleksandr hastily let him go and stood him back up, apologizing frantically. “Oh, God… I’m such an―I’m sorry! I didn't… Are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” Gilbert insisted, getting a kick out of his flustering around. “Seriously―” Though he didn't exactly mind Aleksandr fussing over him, he grabbed his hands to make him stop, “I should’ve known better than to mess with you.” Or at least scare him by making physical contact.

“Still… I…”

“Still nothing. Hey, didn't you toss some shit?”

They both looked down at the walk, and found his phone lying on the curb, along with a long paper sack flung into a mound of snow in front of a shop. Gilbert picked up the latter while Aleksandr retrieved his phone―surprisingly, the contents were intact. Despite the glass.

“ _So_ ,” he said, taking out one of the bottles and waving it side to side, “did you come all the way to Germany just for the beer? I mean―valid reason. But I gotta ask. It’s a  _little_  sudden.”

Blushing quite a bit, Aleksandr turned bashful and avoided eye contact. “I… ah… N-No… I just… thought I would…”

“Come visit?” He was surprised with all of this, especially after the text mishap, so Gilbert gave a last little push, linking an arm with him and tugging him along. “You don’t have to ask! We've known each other for, what, 800 years or some shit?!”

He finally won a smile out of Aleksandr for the trouble. “Erm… something like that…”

-

As long as it was a gift, Gilbert cracked open the beer as soon as they got back to his house. “You have really perfect timing, you know that? I was about to go bored out of my mind.” And as long as it was a gift, he drank straight out of the bottle. “My sister’s over in Italy with her boy toy, and the rest of my friends are shackin’ up for Christmas, too. So poor saps like me just get to stay home and drink, I guess?”

“Ah… yeah,” Aleksandr said, “the same thing is happening to me… Everything seems to happen at once, doesn't it…?”

“Tell me about it. At least we can be single losers together,” he snorted. But Gilbert noted he was still standing and looked somewhat out of place. “By the way, are you gonna sit down with me or do I need to kick your ass?”

After a pause, Aleksandr replied, “Gilbert, you’re sitting on the counter.”

“Yeah, so?” Still holding the bottle, he pointed a finger, “I’m gonna have to teach you to be more inconsiderate so you can relax.”

“No, I’m fine.”

“You need a drink.”

“I don’t―Well… not yet.”

There was that snarkiness he wanted to see. “That’s the spirit,” Gilbert snickered. Then he held out the beer bottle, “Now take a drink.”

He seemed to be wearing Aleksandr down a little bit, at least going by that huff. “Really, I―”

“C’mon, Herr Russland, I don’t have cooties!”

Finally, Aleksandr, after giving him an exasperated look, grabbed the bottle from out of his hand and downed at least a third of it. Briefly stunned, Gilbert blinked and then gave him a standing ovation. Then he threw an arm around his shoulders and remarked, “Hey, keep going―that was hot.”

He timed it just right. Blushing brightly, Aleksandr spit some of it back out―then he couldn't stop, and shoved Gilbert in the shoulder when he started laughing.

He was starting to feel thankful that he’d been left to his devices this year.

They migrated to the living room, with the TV absently buzzing in the background. In a concentrated effort to get him to loosen up, Gilbert brought all three bottles of alcohol Aleksandr had provided.

Aleksandr didn't drink as much as people thought―he was actually reluctant to get drunk, claiming he became too energetic or wound-up. As far as Gilbert had ever seen, this mostly involved him talking a lot and blurting out anything he was thinking. Now, there was one year that he and America got into a fight at one of his parties, which ended with America getting body slammed, but Gilbert was pretty sure that wasn't about to happen to him.

They weren't doing anything special, just sitting on the couch and talking, teasing each other… for hours. They hadn't been able to do that for a while now, and Gilbert had missed it more than he realized. They needed to make more time to do this.

Before they knew it, it was after 7:00, and they had finished off all three bottles of alcohol. That was mostly Aleksandr’s doing, actually―with enough goading from Gilbert to relax. But he definitely wasn't wound up. If anything, he was sleepy… and a little bit clingy, leaning on Gilbert’s side and laying his head on his shoulder for the last half-hour or so.

It didn't exactly strike Gilbert as… friendly. But it didn't bother him. Actually, if he was being honest, there were some other places he wanted to try to take this relationship, though drunk would not be the best time for that. It was a good thing he hadn't had any more to drink, or he would've had to try a lot harder to keep his mind on track.

Dozing off himself, he’d almost convinced himself for a moment that he had completely dreamed up Aleksandr kissing him on the neck.

After a considerable delay, his eyes popped open and he flinched suddenly enough to give himself a head rush. “Wha―! H-Hey―the fuck kind of beer did you drink?!”

Looking innocent as hell (and not trying to be coy about it because he was drunk), Aleksandr only giggled and said, “Uh, I don’t remember. Why? Did I startle you?”

“Yes! I mean, no. It was…  uh…” Gilbert really had no fucking idea what to say or what he wanted to say. He was going to blame the booze for the brain stall and not being so close to Aleksandr.

He leaned back onto Gilbert, though this time they ended up sliding down onto the seat cushions, whether he intended for that or not. Now Gilbert wasn't sure where to draw the line for his drunk ass―he was  _so unprepared for this_. But… he also didn't want to cause an upset by pushing him completely off…

Gilbert inhaled sharply (for more than one reason) when Aleksandr kissed him on the neck again―and this time he felt tongue. He couldn't remember the last damn time he’d been flustered, but it took him way too long to push Aleksandr off. “Hey, you―mhh―f-fuck, you’re drunk!  _Aleksandr!_ ”

Almost in a sudden panic move, he pushed him all the way back so they were sitting upright again―Aleksandr looked a little dazed and blinked at him with confusion. “Huh?”

“Listen to me―” He held Aleksandr’s shoulders and looked him dead in the eye, “Stop it. I don’t want you to kiss me when you’re drunk!”

Well, he did, but he didn't.

Frowning and looking embarrassed now, Aleksandr asked, “Am I… not doing something right?”

Goddamn it. “No, you―” He bit into his gums. “Just―Just sleep it off.  _Please._ We can talk about it when you’re sober.”

“I’m… sorry…”

Damn, he was a moody drunk. Gilbert couldn't take that look on his face. Hoping it would keep him from getting upset, Gilbert kissed him on the forehead. And with that brief moment of surprise he got out of it, Gilbert took the opportunity to make him lie down toward the other side of the couch.

That gesture felt strange for him―the whole thing was strange, really, strange like a brick to the head. But it was way too late to worry about that now. This was going to get resolved in the morning.

Though there was no fucking way he was going to sleep now.

-

“Aleksandr, you fucker, wake up.”

He sighed a little and didn't even bother opening his eyes. “What time is it…?”

“It’s get-the-fuck-up-o’clock.” He could see the confusion start to emerge from Aleksandr’s expression, but he was at least still half-asleep.

It was tempting to just push him off the couch for a wake-up call… But that wouldn't get him anywhere, so Gilbert paid him back in similar fashion―though, with the bandages covering his neck, he kissed him behind the ear instead.

All he heard was a sharp inhale and a shrill shout before they both fell off the side of the couch.

Maybe Aleksandr was more awake than he’d thought.

“Agh―What― _What are you doing?!”_  Aleksandr exclaimed with wild eyes and a beet-red face.

“What the hell were  _you_  doing last night, you horny drunk?!”

Aleksandr stammered for a good 10 seconds, mostly incomprehensible and overcome with humiliation, until he was unable to look up at Gilbert hovering over him anymore and turned his head so he could stare shamefully at the wall. “**Ya khochu umeret'...”

“You don’t get to die until you tell me why you never came onto me before,” Gilbert said, beginning a rant, “and then you wait until you’re drunk, so I have to tell you ‘no,’ and then I get a whopping two hours of sleep.”

He was unresponsive for a moment, until he droned, “You… You don’t actually think I could come onto you sober…”

“ _Somebody_  could take that the wrong way, you know.”

“Y-You know what I mean!”

“ _Aleksandr_ ,” he said pointedly, “you could've used  _any_  pick-up line ever invented and I woulda gone for it!”

Still completely red in the face but exasperated, Aleksandr looked at him again and groaned, “Why are we arguing about this? I outed myself in the most humiliating way possible, it’s over, and I want to die.”

After pausing, Gilbert scoffed and cracked a smirk, “No, what are you saying? There are way more embarrassing things you could've done. You could've started stripping. Or grabbed my―”

Aleksandr sat up so fast to slap a hand over Gilbert’s mouth that he nearly head-butted him. “Please…” he said stiffly, “ _shut up_.”

They stayed still like that for a prolonged amount of time. Gilbert fully intended to keep running his mouth, except that Aleksandr kissed him on the lips once he took his hand away. A pleasant surprise, shy and hesitant as it was, considering Gilbert was worried he was on the verge of freaking out and leaving.

The whole situation was kind of a mess, and a sudden shock all around, but might as well take it and make the most of it. Gilbert unapologetically worked a surprised squeak out of Aleksandr when he broke their lips with his tongue, and then pushed him back onto the floor.

It was turning out to be a decent Christmas after all.

**Author's Note:**

> *Lügner - German, “Liar”  
> **Ya khochu umeret' - Russian, “I want to die”


End file.
